


No Cold Feet

by mandysimo13



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:58:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandysimo13/pseuds/mandysimo13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was a little blip that sprang from a writing prompt from WriteWorld on Tumblr. </p><p>http://writeworld.tumblr.com/tagged/image+blocks/page/9</p>
    </blockquote>





	No Cold Feet

**Author's Note:**

> This was a little blip that sprang from a writing prompt from WriteWorld on Tumblr. 
> 
> http://writeworld.tumblr.com/tagged/image+blocks/page/9

Derek woke to find himself alone in his bed. He was still curled on his side where he had fallen asleep; fallen asleep curled around Stiles. He closed his eyes and swept a hand over the empty space where Stiles should be and found it to be still warm. Rubbing a hand over his face to try and wipe away the grogginess that comes with waking he rolled onto his back to stretch before slipping from the covers.

His bare feet hit the cold floor and he hissed at the contact, feet recoiling. Sucking in a breath he gently placed his feet back on the bare hardwood and, as quickly as he could muster so early, crossed the room to his dresser to pull out a pair of sweats and socks. Once the essentials were covered he went in search of Stiles.

The moment he exited the bedroom he smelled coffee brewing. _He’s still here,_ he thought happily. He made his way to the kitchen and found it empty. Frowning he checked the coffee pot and finding it full he decided he would pour for both of them; Stiles would never leave without sucking down at least one cup of coffee. Derek’s cup was easy, black with a touch of sugar, consistent.

Stiles’ was more tricky. His taste differed from day to day. When he was in a sour mood he drank his coffee black (Derek usually scoffing at Stiles’ comparison of “black like my heart”). But when he was happy he could bounce between simple cream and sugar to mocha with extra whipped cream. Deciding on something in the middle, because hey it was a great night last night, he added cream, extra sugar and a dash of cinnamon to Stiles’ favorite mug. It still hit him how much he loved that Stiles was over so much he had left his favorite mug at Derek’s place. Nevermind the fact that his favorite mug was in the shape of Yoda’s head.

“Stiles,” he called out in the otherwise quiet house, “Coffee’s ready.”

A moment later Stiles’ reply floated from the living room. “In here, Der.”

He took the two steaming mugs with him in search of Stiles. His. Stiles.

Derek found Stiles at the window, dressed in last night’s jeans and no shirt or socks, staring at the new fallen snow. Derek just leaned in the doorway staring a moment; Stiles looked so perfect, like he belonged here. “It’s so pretty isn’t it,” Stiles asked softly.

“The snow?”

“Yeah. So clean and new. It’s a perfect picture.”

Derek came up behind him and curled an arm around Stiles’ body to offer him his morning cup o’Joe. “You make a perfect picture.”

Stiles snorted into his mug, “Cheesy.”

Derek smiled and kissed the back of the boy’s neck. “You like me that way.”

“Damn right I do,” Stiles retorted before taking a deep swallow, humming in satisfaction. “Cinnamon.”

“Like it?”

“It’s warm. I like it.”

Derek sipped his own and wrapped his free arm around Stiles to bring them close as they watched the snow gently drift down. The words slipped from his mouth before he had a chance to think about it. “Move in with me.”

Stiles choked on his coffee and spun around to face him, a shocked expression on his face. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, dummy. I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.” He took another sip before adding, “I like the way Yoda looks in my cabinet and I figure the rest of your Star Wars crap would look good here too.”

Stiles took both their cups and placed them on the table before leaping into Derek’s arms to kiss him. “You bet your sweet ass it will. And you have the perfect spot for my Lego Millenium Falcon on the top shelf in our bedroom.”

 _Our room._ Derek liked the sound of that already.


End file.
